When One Garage Door Closes: Part 5

The next morning was a bit slow for me.  I can't deny that I was feeling a little groggy as everyone shuffled out of their respective sleeping arrangements and a thunder of footsteps echoed through the house as the hustle and bustle ramped up and people got loaded, sorted and caffeinated for the trek to the Dragon.  My pilot and I were shuffling our backpacks and duffle bags, loose helmets and riding gear into support vehicles that would transport our goods to the final meeting spot.  The Ladybird can only support so much weight so in the best interests of maximizing efficiency, we opted to travel as lightly as possible.

We made it to the airstrip and gassed up after checking her oil and conducting other inspections.  I buckled my seat belt and arranged my headset with a nervous but eager grin on my face.  This would be a little longer of a flight and I didn't really know what to expect.  Nor did my pilot, really as he had not flown on this side of the country before.  Our flight was remarkably smooth and uneventful.  Throughout the duration of it, my pilot was giving me some basic co-pilot education in reading aviation maps and understanding airspace codes.  He explained things like IFR and VFR and the limits of what is allowable for safe air travel in an aircraft such as the Ladybird. Meanwhile, I glanced out the window at the landscape and considered possibilities of where we could possibly land if things went south. I mean, that's not all I thought about. I actually felt quite at home in the humble little Ladybird, floating along on her course over unsuspecting housing developments and commercial developments.  As I sat staring out the window, a big part of me felt free from it all, a birds eye view looking down into a world that seems so large and overwhelming at ground level.  It was refreshing, exhilerating, and spiritually liberating. I wondered how much of the world had changed in the years since her production, how much the landscape had changed form and how much of history had fallen behind as the Ladybird charted her course through time.

As we made our final approach toward a mountain range we started scanning the vicinity for the landing strip. My friend checked his map, then his GPS, and then his phone before cranking his radio on to listen to the conditions.  I immediately spotted an interstate and as we banked a slight right to align with the interstate, we noticed the airstrip situated not far from it in the same direction.  "Is that it?"  I pointed out, "Well I'll be damned, hang on to your ta-ta's buddy we're gonna have to make a sharp turn."  I had already whipped out my phone for the landing, but suddenly felt a tinge of nervous apprehension as my pilot initiated a bit more assertive of a stall than he had the day before, and then an immediate tilt to the left. At one point I looked out the side window to see a cow grazing in a grassy pit as we quickly glided overhead.  Looking forward I saw the landing strip and before I could make any sense of what to do next the Ladybird leveled out and we were suddenly lined up perfectly to touch the wheels down and falling toward the runway fast. The initial touchdown was a bit hard but quite remarkable for what my layman brain thought to be possible.  

It seems like so much distance, yet it closes in fast

"Holy shit, buddy, that was a first!"  My pilot erupted with a victory squeal.  Something about the bowl of the mountain range and the placement of the landing strip meant that the only way to successfully land was to have pulled a maneuver like that.  I don't even think I had time to be scared, if scared was the reaction.  It was more along the lines of, "holy crap! I just looked a cow in the eyes while floating sideways in a fucking airplane 200 feet above it."  It was a pivotal moment in my life and as we made our way out of the plane onto the sleepy little tarmac, I couldn't help but crack a grin. It doesn't seem like a big deal now.  In fact it seems like such a small thrill by comparison to the shenanigans that awaited us.

We had some time to kill while we waited for our transportation, so we wandered around the sleepy old airport and took in the sights.  There wasn't much but it was endearing to me and there was quite a bit to be appreciated in the dusty old hangars.